“Didn’t Carol say she knew the woman with the pearls? Assuming it is the same woman. But I can’t believe there is more than one woman running around Shipley Mountain wearing blue sweat pants and pearls. Of course, Sarah didn’t say her woman was wearing sweat pants, exactly.”
“I wonder if your friend Connie knows this woman. After all, she just lives on the next street over.”
“Maybe we should go talk to Connie about her. See what she knows.”
• • • •
“You must mean Harriet Summers,” Connie said as she used a stained rag to clean paint from her brush. Susan and Brandon had found Connie on the back porch of her cabin working at her easel.
“That’s right. That’s the name Carol said,” Susan confirmed.
“They’ve had their cabin up here longer than us. She’s never been particularly friendly that I can recall. But I remember her husband, Ed, was always a friendly guy, at least until the accident.”
“Carol mentioned he was in a wheel chair. Was that from the accident you’re talking about?” Susan asked.
“Yeah. From what I understand, he had a really bad fall—broke his spinal cord I think. Before the accident, I remember him being very friendly. He has a workshop in the back of their cabin, and when they’d come up for weekends, he’d make birdhouses for all the neighbors. He gave me one once; I used it as a doll house. There were a few times he helped Dad work on the cabin. But after the accident, he changed. I remember Dad telling us how he stopped over to see him a few times after the accident, but Ed pretty much brushed him off. It was like that with all the neighbors. Now when they come up, he stays inside the cabin. You rarely see him on the porch in his chair.”
“That’s sad. How long has he been in a wheelchair?” Susan asked.
“Let’s see…” Connie considered the question for a moment. “I remember it was the summer after the Collins girl disappeared. Shipley Mountain pretty much closes down for the winter—lake freezes over, and we don’t have any ski lifts to attract winter visitors. Our family usually makes it up for Thanksgiving and sometimes Christmas. I don’t remember seeing the Summerses that winter—the winter after the Collins child disappeared. But the next summer, when the Summerses returned to their cabin, he was in a wheelchair.”
“I understand their only child died when she was just a little girl,” Susan said.
“Why all the questions over the Summerses?” Carol asked.
“According to Sarah, the woman who cut her hair was wearing a pearl necklace,” Brandon explained.
“Ekkk,” Carol squeaked. “That gave me chills!”
“Why?” Susan frowned.
“Well, Ed was always a nice guy, at least until the accident. But Harriet… there was always something a little creepy about her. When Ella and I would walk by her cabin, she would always stare at us and ask if we wanted to come in for cookies. But something about her sort of made me uneasy. I once mentioned it to my mom, who promptly reminded me that Harriet had had a rough life, first losing their only child and then having to care for an invalid husband. While I understood what Mom was saying, I still couldn’t shake my feeling toward Harriet. And the idea of her cutting Sarah’s hair doesn’t really shock me.”
“Then maybe you should call the sheriff again!” Susan told Brandon.
“I don’t think so.” Connie shook her head.
“Why not?” Susan asked.
“Do you remember the name of the officer that showed up this morning?” Connie asked.
“Anderson, I believe. Joe or James Anderson.”
“That would be James Anderson. Harriet’s baby brother. I don’t think he will be of much help.”
“Seriously? Her brother is the sheriff?”
“Not the sheriff, but yeah, he’s one of the deputies,” Connie told her. “He’s not a bad guy, but I think it’s a fairly close family, and I don’t imagine he’d appreciate you coming to him with a story about his sister cutting Sarah’s hair, especially if you don’t have any proof.”
“Do you know what happened to their daughter?” Susan asked.
“She drowned.”
“Up here?” Brandon asked.
“No, in the ocean. This was before they had a cabin up here.”
• • • •
“What are you going to do now?” Susan asked Brandon after they left the Lewis cabin.
“Are you up to taking a little drive with me?” Brandon asked.
“Where to?”
“Pine Street.”
“Sure… but what are you going to do?” Susan asked nervously.
“I have absolutely no idea.” Brandon took Susan’s hand in his and led her to his truck.
“I guess we should have asked Connie which house was the Summerses’,” Susan said when they reached Pine Street. Brandon drove slowly down the quiet road, and she noted that most of the cabins on the narrow street seemed to be closed up.
“I don’t know about that,” Brandon said, bringing the truck to a stop in front of a blue cabin with a gambrel roof. Its front window was open, and from the street, Brandon could clearly see one of its occupants—a man sitting in a wheel chair.
“Now what?” Susan asked with a whisper, seeing what Brandon was looking at.
“I’d sort of like to see the inside of the house. Maybe there’s something in there that Sarah might remember. She told you about the pearls today. Maybe she’ll start remembering other things, like what was in the woman’s kitchen. If her memories match up to something tangible, I could call the sheriff’s office again.”
“What about what Connie said? That deputy is Harriett’s brother.”
“I’ll just make sure I talk to someone else.”
“I have an idea,” Susan suggested. “Remember, I met her yesterday up at the chapel. Let’s just go up and knock on the door. I’ll say I wanted to make sure Harriet got home okay—that Carol told me who she was and I was worried about her.”
“Not sure if that will get us in the door, especially if she answers it.”
“Well…” Susan considered her options for a moment. “I’ll ask to use their bathroom. Would they really turn me down after I so thoughtfully stopped by to check on her?”
“Ah, what the hell? It’s worth a shot,” Brandon said. “Just remember, if this Harriet really did cut Sarah’s hair, then she could be dangerous… and so could her husband.”
“The man is in a wheel chair, and I think I could take that woman. But if I see any firearms or dangerously sharp objects, I promise to make a hasty exit.”
“Deal,” Brandon said.
Once they reached the front door, Susan took a deep breath and gave a little nod to Brandon, who knocked loudly on the front of the cabin. After a second knock, the door opened. Susan and Brandon looked down into the unsmiling face of Ed Summers, who sat in a wheelchair.
“Yes, can I help you with something?” Ed asked.
“Hello,” Susan said brightly. “I was wondering if Harriet was home?”
“Who are you?” Ed narrowed his eyes.
“My name’s Susan Thomas and this is my friend Brandon. I’m one of the counselors over at Camp Shipley. I met Harriet yesterday and wanted to make sure she got home okay.”
“You met her where?” Ed asked.
“Up at Trail’s Chapel after yesterday’s storm.”
“She isn’t here right now.” It was obvious Ed was anxious to shut the door.
“But she did get home okay yesterday? I was really worried about her. It took me a while to figure out where she lived, or I would have been here earlier,” Susan lied.
“Well… that is thoughtful of you. But Harriet got home fine. She just isn’t here right now.”
“Do you know when she might be back?”
“She drove down to the village to do some grocery shopping and run some errands. I don’t expect her back for a couple hours.”
“Oh… well, please tell her I stopped by… Oh, I have a big favor to ask you…” Su
san glanced down as if embarrassed.
“Yes?”
“Is there any possible way I could use your bathroom? This is so embarrassing…”
“Sure.” Ed rolled his wheelchair backwards, making room for Susan and Brandon to enter.
“Thank you so much!” Susan walked into the cabin and glanced around. “What a nice cabin.” In truth, she thought it looked a little depressing. There was nothing cozy and comforting about the front room.
“Bathroom’s through the kitchen.” Ed pointed to a doorway on the other side of the room. Susan smiled and rushed off, trying to memorize everything she was seeing.
She could hear Brandon making small talk with Ed as she made her way into the kitchen. The hardwood floor needed refinishing, and the chipped white counter tile was as colorless as the rest of the kitchen. Glancing around, she couldn’t find anything notable that might have caught a young child’s attention—no funny kitchen roosters or memorable cookie jar, just a bland kitchen with the bare necessities.
Susan realized she really did need to use the bathroom, so she walked through the kitchen to the door leading to the small bathroom.
Sitting on the commode, her shorts around her ankles, Susan glanced around the tiny room. Sarah hadn’t mentioned anything about visiting the bathroom at the woman’s house, so Susan didn’t imagine she’d find anything in this room that might jog Sarah’s memory.
Reaching for the toilet paper, Susan glanced down at the trashcan beside the toilet. Frowning, Susan looked into the can. Is that what I think it is? she asked herself.
• • • •
“Thank you for letting me use your bathroom,” Susan said brightly as she reentered the room clutching her purse.
“Well, that was quick,” Brandon mumbled, eyeing Susan curiously.
Still smiling, Susan snatched Brandon’s hand, pulling him to the front door as she chattered away, explaining how she needed to get back to the camp while again thanking Mr. Summers for the use of his bathroom.
“Well, what was that all about?” Brandon asked once they were back in the truck.
“I found this.” Susan pulled what appeared to be a wad of toilet paper from her purse. Gingerly she unfolded the paper to reveal what she had tucked inside.
“Is that what I think it is?” Brandon reached out and picked up what appeared to be a lock of his niece’s blonde hair.
“It was in the bathroom trashcan.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
A late morning breeze moved through the pine trees, cooling the warm summer day. Overhead, white puffy clouds dotted the blue sky. In the nearby trees, birds chirped and squirrels scurried up branches.
The only vehicles they saw were those parked in cabin driveways or in the street. They passed one jogger who was going in the opposite direction. She gave Brandon and Susan a little wave as she passed.
The heavy scent of pine triggered Susan’s childhood memories of Camp Shipley—fond memories—and she hated the way the wad of tissue paper with Sarah’s hair made this place feel ugly and unsafe.
“Are you going to call the sheriff’s office now?” Susan asked Brandon as they walked to the front door of his cabin.
“First I want to talk to Kit. I think the sheriff’s office should know, but what they’ll actually do at this point… probably nothing.”
“What do you mean?” Susan looked up at Brandon.
“If you think about it, what crime has been committed? Not saying a crime wasn’t committed, especially if the woman tried to abduct Sarah, but what can we really prove?”
“The very least, it’ll make them more aware of Harriett Summers’ inappropriate behavior.”
“Oh, I agree with that. I’m not saying we won’t be talking to the sheriff’s office, but in the big picture, I’m not sure how much good it’ll do, and frankly, it makes staying up here uncomfortable for me, knowing that woman is just around the corner. What in the world did she intend to do with Sarah after she cut off all her hair?”
“Are you saying you might go home early?” Susan asked as they stood by the front door of his cabin.
“I don’t know. I’ve made some commitments here, work I’ve agreed to do, but under the circumstances… Sarah’s safety comes first.”
“I guess I understand that.” Susan glanced over to the Lewis cabin where her car was still parked. “I suppose I should think about heading back to the camp.”
“Do you have to go so soon? When do they expect you back?”
“The girls should return from their ride an hour or so before dinner.”
“So why the rush? It isn’t even lunchtime yet. Come inside with me; wait for Kit to return so we can talk to her together.”
“Are you sure you want me here when you tell her about the hair?”
“I sort of feel like we’re in this together.”
“Okay.” Susan smiled up at Brandon.
Once inside the cabin, Brandon put the tissue with the lock of hair on the fireplace mantle. When he turned around to face Susan, she was standing by the couch watching him. The memory of their night together flashed in his mind. He recalled how eagerly she had opened to him, how they’d made love not just once or twice but three times that night. He’d been celibate since their time together, mostly because he’d been too busy helping his sister through her difficult time but partly because there was only one woman who held his interest these days—Susan.
Lost in her own private thoughts, Susan watched Brandon set the lock of hair—still in the tissue paper—on the mantle. She wasn’t prepared when he turned to her and, without warning, took two sudden steps in her direction and pulled her into his arms.
“Brandon!” she cried out; it was more an expression of surprise than protest. He silenced her with a kiss—demanding and urgent. Startled, Susan stood still, her arms at her sides as she passively accepted the kiss.
“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he whispered into her mouth a moment later. In response, she wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss she returned was neither passive nor timid.
They fell together onto the couch, Susan on top of Brandon. He slipped his hands up her thighs, past the hem of her shorts until his fingertips caressed the lower portion of her buttock cheeks.
“You have the nicest ass,” Brandon growled into her ear after his lips left hers. His kisses fell along her jawline and cheek, with nibbles along the earlobe. Susan squirmed on top of him and didn’t issue a protest while his hands continually explored her lower posterior.
“I kind of like yours, too,” Susan chuckled, nipping the tender skin along his neck.
“We need to get you out of these damn shorts,” Brandon growled, his hands groping to find her zipper.
“I don’t think so,” Susan said breathlessly, pushing his hand away from the front of her shorts. “Your sister could walk in on us.”
“Damn,” Brandon grumbled. His hands abandoned her shorts and slipped into her blouse, pulling it upwards, exposing her bra. Susan arched her back, giving him permission to continue. Gently tugging the bra upwards, Brandon freed Susan’s breasts from their silky constraints. Eagerly, he seized one nipple in his mouth as his right hand fondled her other breast. Brandon’s free hand moved downward, his fingers wiggling their way into her shorts, teasing the tender skin on her belly.
Fevered and ready to lose herself in the moment’s passion, she heard a car door slam. Brandon heard it, too. They jumped up from the couch. Hurriedly, Susan pulled her bra back in place and adjusted her clothing before running her fingers through her hair. Somewhere along the way her pony tail had come undone. She found her scrunchy on the floor by the couch and was just re-securing her ponytail when Kit and Sarah walked into the cabin.
Brandon’s and Susan’s flushed and somewhat breathless countenances were not lost on Kit, who eyed the two curiously as she walked into the room. Kit noticed Brandon’s guilty expression and the awkward way he stood with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his
jeans. Hiding the evidence? Kit thought with a chuckle.
“What’s funny, Mommy?” Sarah asked.
“Nothing dear,” Kit said, trying to suppress another chuckle. “Come, let’s go in the kitchen, and I’ll make you a snack.” Kit ushered Sarah from the room.
“Well, that was embarrassing,” Susan said, once again adjusting her clothes.
“Just imagine how embarrassing it would have been if she had arrived a few minutes later.” Brandon grinned.
“Oh, you’re awful!” Susan laughed.
Brandon reached out and touched her hand. “Yeah, I am. But it’s all your fault.”
“My fault?” Susan arched her brow.
“Since the first time we met, I wanted to get to know you better.”
“You mean get into my pants.” Susan chuckled.
“As I recall, you tried to get in my pants before I tried yours.” Brandon took her hand in his and gave it a little squeeze. “And you were quite successful at it.”
“You aren’t going to let me forget it, are you?”
“Not for a minute.” Brandon pulled Susan to him and gave her a quick kiss before releasing her.
“When are we going to talk to Kit about what we found?” Susan asked.
“I’ll see if she’ll bring Sarah in here for her snack and put on a movie so we can go talk in the kitchen without her overhearing us.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“You think you can keep your hands to yourself?” Brandon teased.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I know I’m irresistible. But I don’t want you embarrassing yourself in front of my sister.” Brandon grinned.
“Oh, shut up!” Susan laughed, swatting his butt as he turned toward the kitchen.
“See, I knew you couldn’t keep your hands off me!” Brandon said with a laugh.
“Is Susan still here?” Kit asked when Brandon walked into the kitchen a moment later. Sarah sat at the kitchen table waiting for her mother to pour a glass of milk and set two cookies on a plate.
“Yes. We wanted to talk to you but wondered if the munchkin would take her snack in the living room with Cinderella.”
Sundered Hearts Page 14